


A Silent Secret

by lilyplujambah



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Embarrassment, F/M, First Kiss, secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26339068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyplujambah/pseuds/lilyplujambah
Summary: The lab is dead silent. No machine whirrs a white noise and there is no idle hum from someone sitting at another bench. The room lives in a darkness only challenged by the faint shine of the moonlight through the double-glass window. Fitz can feel the cool air against his skin but ignores it in favour of savouring the serenity accomplished by the surreal atmosphere. As he steps forward, the echo of his heel on the ground washes over his ears and it takes a noticeable moment for the room to return to absolute peace.
Relationships: Leo Fitz & Jemma Simmons, Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Kudos: 24





	A Silent Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything in association with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D..

The lab is dead silent. No machine whirrs a white noise and there is no idle hum from someone sitting at another bench. The room lives in a darkness only challenged by the faint shine of the moonlight through the double-glass window. Fitz can feel the cool air against his skin but ignores it in favour of savouring the serenity accomplished by the surreal atmosphere. As he steps forward, the echo of his heel on the ground washes over his ears and it takes a noticeable moment for the room to return to absolute peace.  
  
When a spark of mischief ignites his mind, Fitz finds himself no more standing in the lab as in a hurried search of some crisps. He ventures out of the lab and through the endless corridors of bunks. Out into the breeze of the lengthy balcony and, finally, through the double-doors of the shared kitchen.   
  
There is a faint smell of camomile tea that lingers aimlessly in the air. The fridge light illuminates the small room and heat from the electric stove sends a shiver down Fitz’s spine. Quietly switching on the light, the cleanliness of the room jars him. The marble counter is so rarely white and the metallic glisten of the large fridge doors so rarely shines. Fitz slowly fills the kettle with cold tap water as he idly ponders the dripping saucepan beside the sink. Popping on the kettle ad retrieving a spoon, Fitz notices the organised placement of the cutlery. The forks are stacked in piles determined by the size and the knives lie neatly beside one another. It’s a wonder that Fitz never sees the kitchen this pristine.   
  
Before he can think any longer, he kettle begins to whine. Suddenly frustrated at his insistence that S.H.I.E.L.D. harbour a traditional squealing kettle, he rushes to pour the boiling water into a small mug. Finding a teabag of English Breakfast is simple enough and he is soon awaiting the pass of five lengthening minutes.  
  
When he decides that enough is enough, he drops a small cube of sugar into his tea, followed by a dash of milk and takes a brief sip. It burns his tongue ever so slightly as the aroma and taste fill his mouth. Placing his mug back on the counter, he cleans the spoon and replaces it in the draw. He throws the soggy tea bag into the bin and switches off the lights. He hurriedly makes his way back through the dark hallways, stopping by his own bunk to snag a bag from his excessive stash of Walkers.  
  
It doesn’t take him much longer to reach the lab, only, this time, it is different. No whirr can be heard, but an idle pattern of soft breathing does undercoat the silence of the room. It remains cold, but the calming hint of tea floats in the air.   
  
A load bang startles Fitz and, not a second later, he finds his hand dripping with his fresh tea. Partly disappointed, though not deterred from his initial intentions, he moves further into the ghosted lab. There is a slight hushed breath from the other corner of the room. Fitz taps the desk closest to him - not trusting his voice - to announce his presence. He is partly surprised at the immediate response and he steps closer to the source of the intriguing sounds.  
  
He continues knocking on very objects in a makeshift game of Marco Polo. Eventually, just as he turns to look back toward the faint light leaking around the door, he feels a whisper of a warm breeze against his ear. Jumping around in surprise, Fitz reaches out for stability. A pair of hands lightly grip his shoulders before he feels slender fingers tap his chaotic curls.   
  
There’s a quick intake of breath, a sigh of relief, then a croaky “Fitz.” The voice is sweet, welcoming and kind. It’s so like-  
  
“Jemma!” Fitz exclaims, pulling her into an embrace. “Oh, I’m so glad it’s you. You had me mighty frightened for a second, Simmons.” He nestles his head into her shoulder and neck before pulling away and asking, “what are you doing here?”  
  
“I could ask just the same of you,” Jemma retorts defensively. She runs her hand down his arm and slides down the wall. Fitz’s eyes slowly adjust to the minimal light and, when he looks down, he can make out the shadowed figure of her pyjama pants cross-legged. He decides that the simplest thing to do would be to sit beside her, so he does. Their knees bump, but neither of them moves away.   
  
They sit in silence for a long while, candidly enjoy each other’s company. Both of their mugs slowly empty and the only sound comes from the repeated inhale and exhale of the pair. Fitz begins to count their breaths and marvels at how they gradually take breaths more and more in sync. Fitz is hardly aware of the time that has passed when he feels Jemma head rest upon his shoulder. “Why are you here, anyway?” she asks quietly.   
  
He can feel her fingers tap aimlessly against his leg. “I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “And you?”  
  
“I come here nearly every night.” Her response is barely a whisper, but the silence of the large room allows him to hear it very clearly.   
  
“Every night?” he inquires, lost to how he had never known this.  
  
She shifts her posture and pulls one leg up to lean more weight onto him. “It started because of my insomnia, but now it’s ritual.” She takes a slow breath. “I discovered how still and quiet this place is during the night and I couldn’t help but come back the following night. And then-” He feels her tap his arm gently. “You remember the night that Coulson and Skye insisted that we celebrate our successes, ‘cause we hadn’t had a break in ages?” He nods and his chin rubs against her hair. “Yeah, well, that night, the kitchen was absolutely catastrophic. It was as if a hydrogen bomb had exploded in the room.”  
  
“Don’t you mean neutron bomb?” he interjects.  
  
“I suppose, yeah. Anyway, I decided to clean it up.” She continues tapping until Fitz places a gentle hand over hers. “Now, when I make my tea, I clean the kitchen.”   
  
Fitz nods again and rests his head atop hers. “I’ve never seen it that clean,” he confesses, allowing her to take his hand wholly in her own.   
  
She giggles breathlessly, before saying, “you’re never up early enough, sleepyhead.”  
  
“I am no sleepyhead!” he exclaims as he pulls his head from hers. She lifts her own head in question and it isn’t long before Fitz finds himself staring at her as she does him. Her eyes flick over his face and he quickly begins admiring her features. She looks so beautiful, he is certain he could kiss her. The soft colour of her lips and the gentle tone of her skin shine before him. He gets an overwhelming urge to caress her cheek so he lifts his hand. But, before he does so, he remembers that they’re just friends. Friends don’t caress each other’s cheek. They don’t stare at each other. They don’t look over one another’s features and ogle at the slim shape of their nose. They don’t sit right beside each other, in the dark, holding hands in silence and ponder kissing one another.   
  
Just as it happened, the moment is gone and Fitz detaches himself completely from Jemma. He stands up quickly and grabs his mug from the cold floor. “I’m a wee knackered; I might be able to sleep now,” he says as he begins moving out of the lab. In the back of his mind, he considers offering to take her cup but decides that he best leaves.   
  
Fitz almost sighs when he hears Jemma hoist herself up behind him and rush to him. She taps his shoulder and, not willing to be rude, he turns around to face her. She stares at him for a moment longer before lifting herself up onto her toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. He freezes, despite having contemplated this very action not a minute ago. He shivers as her arms slide around his neck. He presses his lips more firmly against hers and almost smiles at how their mouths move in tandem. His own hands find their way to her waist but, reluctantly, Jemma pulls away. Her breathing is laboured and she is no sooner in front of him as she is walking speedily out of the lab. She looks back through the now-open door and waves at him, before disappearing into the darkness.  
  
Fitz hardly moves as he stands and stares at the open door. It’s only when the Sun declares itself in all its glory and strands of light rays shine through the window, that Fitz decides to make his way back to bed. He makes his best attempt to salvage even an hour of sleep, but his mind raves with too many thoughts. What was he thinking? Kissing his best friend is hardly etiquette and to do so in such a vulnerable moment is hardly becoming. He wonders idly if she’d had the same thoughts as him, only, she’d had the balls to do something about them. He ruminates about what he should say to her when they next see each other. It won’t be long before they’ll see each other once again in the very same lab they did that morning.   
  
When he finally gives up on sleep and heads into the lab, Jemma is already there studying a genetically constructed organic specimen. When he comes in, she smiles at him as per usual, waves and gets back to work, leaving Fitz absolutely dumbfounded.  
  
The next few days are the same. Then weeks, months, until Fitz stops thinking about it as much. Almost forgets about it, even. It becomes their unspoken secret. Fitz unwilling to bring it up and Jemma almost determined to ignore it. From that point on, they rarely have moments that quite compare to the intimacy of that night and the dynamic of their relationship is slightly stilted. They treat each other exactly as they did before, until the moment they shared, a kiss that defined how they truly feel for one another, becomes a part of the forgotten past.


End file.
